


teakettle love (i'd do anything)

by redhoods



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, I think that's it - Freeform, M/M, Rimming, Schmoop, also some filth, mentions of others - Freeform, soft boys in looooooove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18252203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: He counts to thirty, standing just next to the desk, within Caleb’s periphery, but there’s still no response. He clears his throat, still nothing. Finally, Fjord reaches out and touches Caleb’s shoulder. There’s a response, but it’s delayed, slowed. Caleb jerks in place and finally looks up at him, surprise evident, “Fjord, how -”“Nott texted me,” he interrupts quietly, reaching out to pry the pen from Caleb’s fingers.





	teakettle love (i'd do anything)

**Author's Note:**

> there was a thread on twitter that i cannot find that inspired this. i literally wrote this all today. it's unbeta'd, because i'm lazy. 
> 
> this is my first cr fic and first widofjord fic, so i'm still getting the hang of the characterization. hoping to write a lot more about these two, despite the amount of undue stress they are causing me at every turn.
> 
> the title is from born to beg by the national. incidentally, there are no teakettles involved.

**has teeth, will bite says:** i’m worried

 **jolly green giant says:** how long this time?

 **has teeth, will bite says:** least two days. i don’t think he’s left his desk

 **jolly green giant says:** responsive?

 **has teeth, will bite says:** barely

 **has teeth, will bite says:** he responds but i don’t think he’s actually hearing me

 **has teeth, will bite says:** told him there was a sale on books at the used books place he likes

 **has teeth, will bite says:** all i got was “that’s nice”

 **jolly green giant says:** i’m on my way

 **has teeth, will bite says:** i’m going to jester and beau’s

 **has teeth, will bite says:** take care of my boy

 **jolly green giant says:** i will

\-----

Fjord doesn’t even bother knocking when he reaches the door to Caleb and Nott’s apartment. He knows that if it’s as bad as Nott says it is, he could knock for an hour and not receive a response. It takes some juggling of the bags in his hands and his ring of keys to find the right one, before he slides it home. The lock doesn’t catch on the first attempt but he wiggles the door in the jamb a little and tries again, listens to the slide of the bolt before he shoulders the door open.

It’s pretty much what he expects.

Kicking off his boots, he takes in the scene. The apartment is quiet, though more than just Caleb’s desk light are on this time, must’ve been Nott’s doing. Caleb is hunched over at his desk, the scratch of his pen furious, and he hasn’t even reacted to someone else entering the apartment. Fjord frowns and bites back the reprimands that bubble up as he steps into the small kitchenette to drop his bag on the counter.

Most of it gets stashed in the fridge, tucked around take out containers, but he keeps hold of to the sports drinks. Fruit punch for himself and blue cherry for Caleb. There’s still no reaction from the desk as he edges around it and goes to drop both drinks on the bedside table of Caleb’s room.

The room is clean though, tidy in a way that he’s not sure if Caleb or Nott cleaned it last, but that makes his job a little easier. Mostly. He backtracks to the living room and sighs quietly as he approaches the desk.

He counts to thirty, standing just next to the desk, within Caleb’s periphery, but there’s still no response. He clears his throat, still nothing. Finally, Fjord reaches out and touches Caleb’s shoulder. There’s a response, but it’s delayed, slowed. Caleb jerks in place and finally looks up at him, surprise evident, “Fjord, how -”

“Nott texted me,” he interrupts quietly, reaching out to pry the pen from Caleb’s fingers.

“Wait, Fjord, I need that, I have to -’

Fjord interrupts him again and thinks he should feel bad about it, but the smudges under Caleb’s eyes are awful and his cheeks are sallow, “Nope,” he pops the ‘p’ hard as he sets the pen down, then draws Caleb’s chair back from the desk, “You need to take care of yourself for a bit. Your work won’t go anywhere.”

Caleb frowns at him, “I have been taking care of myself.” They both know it’s a lie.

“Really? What day’s it then?”

Caleb blinks at him slowly, reminding him of Frumpkin, then says, “Wednesday?”

Blowing out a quiet breath, he reaches out and wraps his fingers around Caleb’s wrists and gently tugs him up out of the chair. There’s not much fight in Caleb, though Fjord isn’t sure it’s because he’s that tired or because he’s given up. Maybe both. “It’s Friday, Cay.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Caleb sags forward against him then, forehead against the center of his chest and Fjord swallows a sigh, looping his arms around Caleb’s back, “I’m almost done with this draft, I need to -”

Fjord brushes a kiss over the top of Caleb’s wild hair, “No,” and starts leading them away from the desk in the direction of Caleb’s room, “You need to sleep and shower and eat. Just surface for a little while, please.”

There’s a soft hum from the general area of his chest and Caleb’s arms curl around his back, fingers digging into the hoodie he’s got on. It makes their movement awkward but he’s not going to complain, as long as they keep moving back towards the bedroom. “All this work you’ve done will be for nothing if you crash and burn at the finish line, Cay.”

Caleb hums again and Fjord’s not certain he’s conscious any longer, but that’s fine.

He backs them into the room and gently nudges Caleb to sit on the bed, ignoring the quiet sound of protest as he opens Caleb’s drink and presses it into his hand. Half the bottle is gone in no time and Fjord offers Caleb a smile as he places it back on the table and juts his chin towards the bed, “C’mon, in bed, you need to sleep.”

“You’ll stay, ja?”

Fjord huffs a quiet breath and nods, “Course, I will.”

Caleb slides over on the bed, towards the wall, and pats the space next to him, which Fjord fills after dumping his wallet and keys on the bedside table and making sure he’s got his phone. He stretches out, then spreads his arm, opening up the space for Caleb who readily fills it, his cheek coming to rest against Fjord’s chest..

“Danke, Fjord.”

“Get some sleep, Cay,” he replies unnessarily, because Caleb’s breathing is already evening out, his ribs expanding and contracting under the hand Fjord has on his side. Caleb’s hair is tickling his chin so he gently runs his fingers through it, carefully untangling the curls while he does so.

He’s not going to mention it to Caleb that he’d just woken up when Nott has texted him, schedule slightly twisted out of place due to picking up extra shifts at the docks, but he’s wide awake now and ready to settle in on his phone for the few hours of sleep he’ll hopes Caleb will take advantage of.

Time passes slowly as he screws around on his social media, catching up on what he’s missed. At some point, he sends a picture to Nott of Caleb’s sleep slack face which immediately finds its way to the group chat and brings about a lot of suggestive emoji use from Jester that he resolutely ignores.

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it. Of course, he’s thought about it. He’d have to be stupid not to, but it’s never been the right time. There’d been his accident and recovery and Caleb’s issues right at the end of their undergrad years, and from there it never felt right.

Now Caleb’s working on finishing up his Master’s and this is where they are. He splits his time between jobs and making sure that Caleb’s taking care of himself now that they’re counting actual days until his graduation.

29 to be exact.

Jester had wanted to plan a party, but Fjord’s pretty sure Caleb’s just going to hibernate for a few weeks after. After graduation though, Fjord’s not sure what’s going to happen. He’s trying not to hope too much.

\-----

Nearing the three hour mark, Caleb starts stirring, stretching out various parts of his body as he tries to drag himself to wakefulness. Fjord darkens his phone screen and dumps it onto the bedside table, sliding his opposite hand up and down Caleb’s spine.

“Time’s it?”

Fjord hums, “Almost four,” he says quietly, hand falling to the bed as Caleb sits up fully. Caleb stretches again, his jaw cracking as he yawns, but he’s got a little more color to his skin, and the circles under his eyes are a little less obvious. It’s a start.

Caleb scratches his jaw, nails scraping over uneven scruff, “I’m not even sure what time you got here, I’m realizing.”

“It was a little after one,” he answers, dragging his eyes from the strip of skin that’d been exposed by Caleb’s stretch, “Feel any better?”

“Much, thank you, schatz,” and Fjord ignores the warmth the blooms in his chest from the endearment, as if Caleb hasn’t used it for all of them at some point, especially while tired. “Schiesse, do I really smell like that?”

Fjord muffles his laugh as best he can, but by the way Caleb cuts his eyes, knows he’s failed. He shrugs sheepishly, “Shower was definitely on my list of things to make sure you did,” he admits, “I brought real food too, if you’re up to it.”

Caleb’s head tilts back in the way that Fjord knows he’s deciding which he wants first, so Fjord pushes himself up off the bed and stretches as well, rolling his neck and flexing blood back to the fingers of the arm Caleb had been sleeping on.

When he straightens back out, Caleb is watching him, gaze intent and focused and Fjord shifts on his feet, “What? I got something on me?” He brushes his hand down the front of his hoodie, a little self conscious.

Caleb blinks at him then shakes his head, “No, no, you look fine,” he says as he slides himself to the edge of the bed and stands as well, “You look good,” he adds a little quieter, and before Fjord can prod that a little further, Caleb’s stepping away towards the door, “I am starving, lets see what you’ve brought.”

Fjord drags a hand over his face and then dutifully follows after him towards the kitchen.

When he comes up behind Caleb, he’s already emptied most of the stuff Fjord brought out onto the counter and has also started his music at some point, music coming out of the speaker that’s been earthed from the pile of books and papers on Caleb’s desk.

It’s familiar and domestic in the way that makes his chest clench but he joins Caleb at the counter, tossing salt into the pot of water as Caleb slides it onto the burner, “I figured this was safe and something that you could have leftovers of for a few days,” he says, inexplicably shy now.

Caleb hands him the bread and a knife and he budges away from the stove further down to the last bit of counter space to slice it and fetches one of the sheet pans from the cabinet next to Caleb’s legs. “This is perfect, Fjord,” Caleb says after a few moments of them working in quiet tandem, pulling together the beginnings of spaghetti.

Once the sauce is gently bubbling and the bread is in the oven, smeared in Caduceus’s herb butter, he retreats to the tiny two person table and sends another picture to Nott, this one of Caleb trying to the sauce straight off the wooden spoon. Caleb doesn’t notice and Fjord tucks his phone away before he can get caught.

“This is delicious,” Caleb says from his spot, replacing the lid on the pot.

Fjord rumbles out a quiet hum, “Also from Caduceus, I’ve been helping him with his recipes,” he explains, eyebrows raising as Caleb turns and approaches him. He’s expecting Caleb to sink into the other chair, he’s not expecting a lap full of redhead, even as his hands automatically move to cup Caleb’s hips.

“Hallo,” there’ a dusting of pink across the bridge of Caleb’s nose, throwing his freckles into stark relief and Fjord swallows thickly.

His voice thankfully doesn’t break as he returns a, “Hello,” but he thinks it’s a near thing.

Caleb’s eyes crinkle at the corner when he smiles and he drapes his arms over Fjord’s shoulders, settling in like this is where he belongs, perched on Fjord’s lap on a chair that Fjord isn’t willing to bet will hold the both of them for long, even with Caleb as thin as he is. “I wanted to thank you, Fjord, properly.”

Fjord blinks at him a few times and feels as though he’s missed part of the conversation, Caleb as usual, several steps ahead of him, “You don’t have to do that, Cay, I’m -”

“I know, I don’t have to,” Caleb interrupts him and Fjord doesn’t try to rebuff, not as Caleb’s slim fingers drag through the hair on the back of his head, “I want to. Have wanted to for a while,” he adds, smile softer now, like he knows that Fjord’s having to put effort in not pressing back into the fingers in his hair. It’s not fair, really, Caleb’s playing low ball, because it’s no secret that Fjord loves having his scalp scratched.

“Oh,” Fjord says, maybe a little dumbfounded and a lot interested, his tongue feeling way too thick for his mouth.

Caleb’s eyes crinkle again as his smile widens once more and dry lips brush the corner of his mouth, “Ja, is that alright with you?”

His fingers flex where he’s holding Caleb’s hips and a lot of responses bubble to the surface but he can only nod, helpless to whatever it is Caleb’s really asking him here.

“Good,” Caleb says and Fjord takes a shuddery breath, just before Caleb’s dry lips press to his fully. It’s soft and chaste and over way too fast for his opinion but Caleb’s blush has suffused over his whole face and that only is worth it.

The kitchen timer dings.

Fjord tries not to groan out his disappointment as Caleb withdraws, sliding off his lap and returning to the stove and Fjord rubs his hands over his thighs before he joins him to finish pulling together their simple meal.

They move to the living room to eat, sitting too close together on the couch and not talking about the kiss as they eat. They talk about Caleb’s work briefly, then Yasha’s anticipated return, Caduceus’s shop, Jester and Beau still dancing around each other like they hadn’t drunkenly professed their feelings in front of everyone a few weeks ago. It’s easy and relaxing and Caleb looks leagues better when they’re done.

“I think I’m going to get that shower now,” Caleb says as Fjord takes their empty bowls to the sink and Fjord swallows back his disappointment at the still unbroached subject, at least, until Caleb softly adds, “If you want to wait around...”

Fjord nods, perhaps too eagerly, by the way Caleb’s lips curl up at the corners, “Yeah, yes, okay,” he says needlessly, “I was hoping to break into the stash in the freezer anyways,” he adds, also needlessly. Even if he’s been thinking about dessert, ice cream really isn’t what’s been on his mind.

Caleb laughs, a little hoarse, but fond as he turns, “You know you’re welcome to it, schatz.”

Clapping his hand over his face, Fjord watches between his fingers until Caleb disappears into the bathroom and then groans quietly into his own palm before getting his phone and settling on the couch, ice cream forgotten in the wake of his own awkwardness.

\-----

 **big green says:** i’m an idiot

 **breauregard says:** yeah and?

 **breauregard says:** what’d you do this time

 **big green says:** stupid shit

 **big green says:** caleb kissed me

 **breauregard says:** what

 **breauregard says:** fuckin finally

 **big green says:** what

 **breauregard says:** cmon man

 **breauregard says:** been a long time coming

 **big green says:** what

 **breauregard says:** you two have been dancing around each other for forever

 **breauregard says:** it’s gross

 **big green says:** alright pot

 **breauregard says:** we agreed not to address that!

 **breauregard says:** so how are you an idiot

 **big green says:** put my foot in my mouth

 **breauregard says:** kinky

 **big green says:** beau

 **breauregard says:** fjord

 **breauregard says:** chill man caleb obvi likes your dorky ass just the way it is

 **big green says:** thanks

 **breauregard says:** i want zero of the details

\------

 **blueberry says:** I WANT ALL THE DETAILS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :eggplant: :peach: :eggplant: :smirk:

\-----

Fjord’s pretty sure he’s managed to will his blush away by the time the water shuts off and Caleb emerges from his bedroom. It creeps back in though when he realizes what hoodie it is that Caleb’s wearing, the material sliding off one of his pale freckled shoulders and almost reaching his thighs. Fjord’s been looking for that hoodie for months, “I thought I’d lost that.”

Caleb doesn’t even have the gall to look sheepish as he comes in closer, looking soft and clean and a little pink in the cheeks, wearing Fjord’s hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that pool around his feet, hiding them from view, “I may have reappropriated it on New Years,” he admits as he sinks onto the couch next to Fjord. He realizes that Caleb’s also trimmed up his beard and he looks far younger now, healthier too, something like satisfaction rolls in his chest.

“It looks good on you, Cay,” He’s close enough for Fjord to feel the warmth of him and he shifts a little, angling himself a little towards Caleb.

There’s a pause, not uncomfortable, but loaded, as they simply regard each other for several beats, and Fjord’s heart feels like it’s going to thud out of his chest when Caleb finally says, “We should talk... about that, uh, that kiss, ja?” Caleb actually seems nervous and Fjord watches the bob of his throat as he swallows.

Fjord nods, “Probably.”

“That’d be the responsible thing,” Caleb says, as if he’s not swaying in closer, like his eyes don’t keep drifting down to Fjord’s mouth. Fjord licks his lips, just to see color flare in Caleb’s his cheeks, though he’s not expecting the wounded little sound that Caleb makes or the way he ducks in to press their lips together immediately.

Caleb’s lips are softer now, less dry, like the shower had done him some good, or maybe like he’d put some of the chapstick he carries around on, and if that’s not a whole though for Fjord to dwell on later, the hand that Caleb curls around his jaw certainly is.

It’s like he’s worried Fjord’s going to pull away when that’s about the last thing on his mind.

There’s a tentative brush of tongue over his lips and Fjord opens easily for him, lets Caleb lick into his mouth with a quiet sound that he can’t stop, his own hand finding Caleb’s side, trying to haul him in closer.

Caleb’s the one to pull away from the kiss with a shuddering breath and his cheeks are practically glowing with how pink they are to the point that Fjord can’t resist reaching up to brush his thumb over the apple of one. Almost immediately, Caleb nuzzles into his hand and Fjord sucks in a quiet breath when Caleb’s lips brush his palm.

“Good talk,” he says lowly, pleased at the way Caleb’s eyes crinkle when he smiles and the quiet huff of amusement that comes out of him as well.

He opens his arms and Caleb sinks into his side again and Fjord doesn’t try to hide the way he tucks his face into Caleb’s still slightly damp hair and inhales deeply, enjoying the way Caleb’s breath audibly hitches. They’re quiet for a few minutes, though Caleb’s music is still playing softly through the speakers, and Fjord doesn’t want to be the one to break the calm.

Caleb saves him from having to, “I have been thinking about doing that for a while now,” he admits, though he doesn’t lift his head.

“Me too,” Fjord replies quietly, his words ruffling some of Caleb’s curls and he lifts his head as Caleb shifts, is graced with a small, fond smile in his direction. He snorts softly after a beat of just smiling at each other like a couple of fools, “Please tell me this doesn’t mean we’re as bad as Beau and Jes.”

There’s a beat and then they both shake their head in unison, “I don’t think that’s possible,” Caleb says, using the matter of fact tone that he uses when he’s discussing his research.

Fjord ducks his head to brush his lips over Caleb’s, once, twice, three times and then sways back, just as Caleb sways forward and swings into his lap once more. It’s a much better fit on the couch and Fjord’s not as worried about Caleb falling off of him here, even as he still settles his hands on Caleb’s hips.

Warm hands cup his cheeks and Caleb’s attention is very focused, his thumbs skate over Fjord’s cheekbones, swiping down until one is brushing over his lower lip. Fjord opens up to the slight pressure, relishing in Caleb’s quiet intake of breath, and flicks his tongue out over the pad of Caleb’s thumb.

“Oh, you are truly something,” Caleb says with a quiet touch of awe and then presses his thumb down against Fjord’s tongue, which punches a quiet sound of his chest that he’d be embarrassed about if the color wasn’t also spilling down Caleb’s throat.

“Cay,” he’s not sure what he’s aiming for as Caleb withdraws his thumb, but Caleb shushes him softly.

Caleb ducks in and brushes their lips gently, “I got you, barchen, don’t worry,” and that’s new, bringing another blossom of warmth to his chest. Fjord isn’t sure what it means, but he’ll ask about it later, instead curls his hand around the back of Caleb’s neck and draws him into another kiss.

This kiss is slick and warm and Fjord slides his fingers into Caleb’s hair, holding him even as the kisses breakdown into gentle presses and brushes of lips. He can already feel the beard burn on his chin, but Caleb’s lips are far more noticable, red and shiny and Fjord draws him into another kiss because he can’t help himself now that they’ve opened that door.

He’s not sure how much time passes like that, the two of them making out like teenagers on the couch.

Caleb slumps forward against him when they break apart, his face tucking in against Fjord’s throat so Fjord can feel just how warm his skin is. At some point, his own hands had migrated under the hoodie, pressing to the warm skin of Caleb’s waist, thumbs making arching sweeps over his lower ribs.

“We could’ve been doing this for ages,” Fjord says, trying to ignore the way his own heart is pounding or the flutter of Caleb’s heartbeat that he can feel.

There’s a slight twitch from Caleb in response and a quiet sound muffled into the hoodie. The second time, the movement is more purposeful, Caleb rocks forward on his lap and it’s unmistakable then, that both of them are hard. Fjord slides his hands down, cupping his hands over Caleb’s ass, “Cay?”

When Caleb lifts his head, his face is bright red, color spilling all the way down into the borrowed hoodie he’s wearing and his eyes are dark, near black, and he grinds forward again. Caleb’s eyes flutter closed and a quiet whine spills out of him just as Fjord groans low in his chest.

“Fjord, we should - ah,” Caleb cuts out as Fjord rocks up against him, “We should move somewhere more comfortable.”

Fjord nudges Caleb’s nose with his own, steals a quick kiss that Caleb tries to draw him into more, but he edges back, “You sure?”

Caleb nods as he rocks forward again and satisfied that they’re on the same page, Fjord levers them both up, hands still cupped under Caleb’s ass. He’s not really all that strong, not like Yasha or Jester, but Caleb’s not exactly heavy either and the friction is amazing as he shuffles towards the bedroom.

They don’t make it to the bed before Caleb drops his legs and wiggles to be put down and Fjord groans quietly as Caleb pulls away, pouting until he watches Caleb strip out of the hoodie. The blush has spilled almost to his nipples and his sweatpants are barely hanging onto his slim hips and Fjord has to adjust himself in his jeans, swallowing thickly as Caleb’s eyes drop his hand.

“Those look uncomfortable,” it’s that matter of fact tone, but different, huskier, and Fjord feels like he’s going to combust in his own skin, “You should take those off, Fjord.”

Fjord nods and doesn’t think about the fact that he rushes to comply, popping the button and drawing the zip down, glad he’d trimmed his claws down yesterday. Caleb’s very close suddenly, tucking his long fingers under his hoodie and shirt, pushing them up impatiently. Huffing quietly, Fjord gently bats his hands away and draws the fabric up and off, letting them drop to the ground before hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and dragging his jeans down, feeling very aware of Caleb’s eyes on him.

“Look at you,” Caleb says, voice low as he pushes his hands up over Fjord’s chest and then drags his nails back down gently. Fjord’s chin hits his chest and he groans quietly, jeans still caught around his thighs as he watches Caleb watch him.

Swallowing, Fjord leans forward enough to shove his jeans down more and conveniently line himself up with Caleb’s collarbone, dragging kisses over his pale skin, resisting the urge to leave marks everywhere his lips touch. He kicks his jeans away when they’re low enough and shudders when fingers tangle in his hair and tug.

Caleb’s gaze is hungry as his eyes drag over Fjord and then they linger over where his cock’s straining against his briefs, a tell tale dark spot on grey fabric where the head is pressed. He’s starting to feel a little self conscious until Caleb reaches out and cups a palm over him and his hips involuntarily rock into it.

He reaches out himself, smoothing his hands down Caleb’s sides, down to where his sweatpants are slipping off and he tucks his fingers under them as he cocks an eyebrow at Caleb in question, “Can I?”

“Ja, yes, bitte,” Caleb says in a sudden rush of breath and Fjord wants to get his mouth on the ruddy color on his chest.

He tugs the sweatpants down and they reach Caleb’s thighs before pooling to the floor and Fjord makes a quiet sound when he realizes that Caleb wasn’t wearing anything under them. He slides his hand up, cupping his hand around the hard line of Caleb’s cock, enjoying the strangled sound is draws out.

There’s no chance to really get a hand around him before Caleb’s knocking his hand away gentle, “You too,” he says lowly and then tips his head towards the bed, “Then on the bed.”

Fjord wishes he could be embarrassed about the way his cock twitches at being given orders from Caleb, but the heated look Caleb shoots him when he notices and the fact that he’s so damn turned on makes it hard. He nearly whines when Caleb takes a step away, but swallows it back as he shucks his briefs in one motion, kicking them away with his jeans before he climbs up on the bed. He’s not really sure what Caleb’s aiming for here, so he tips onto his back up by the pillows, bracing an elbow under himself so he can look to Caleb. Caleb, who is standing right next to the bed, eyes dark and on Fjord as he strokes his cock lazily.

“Fuck, Caleb,” he breathes out, dropping his elbow so he’s flat on his back and also to get a hand around his own cock.

“If you like,” is Caleb’s response and Fjord will deny it outside of the room, but he whines, something soft in the back of his throat, and his cock twitches hard in his hand. “Oh, is that what you want?”

A breath punches out of him as Caleb kneels up on the bed and he reaches out for Caleb, “Please, fuck, anything.” 

Caleb hums quietly and settles between his thighs, somehow looking calm despite the red of his face, neck, and chest and the fact that his cock is hard and red. His hands settles on Fjord’s lower thighs, towards his knees, before sweeping up, thumbs pressing to the inside as he pushes them apart, gentle but intent and Fjord lets them fall open for him. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” Caleb says suddenly, gaze back to Fjord’s face.

Fjord nods, “I will,” spills out, instead of some other useless drivel, because Caleb’s got his serious, focused face on and Fjord feels a little like he’s going to lose his mind under it.

There’s a quiet moment, where Caleb just looks him over, eyes tracing from his face, down his chest to where his cock is lying hard against his stomach, a small puddle of precum forming and then lower and Fjord throws his arm over his face because he’s going to combust if he keeps watching. Caleb clicks his tongue but doesn’t try to stop him, though the bed does shift.

Fjord nearly jerks out of his skin when a tongue drags up the underside of his cock and there’s a soft chuckle from Caleb who pets a hand down one of his thighs, “Easy, barchen,” his breath a warm fan over Fjord’s cock before he licks another broad stripe up his length again.

Caleb’s fingers dig into his thighs as he continues with his tongue, gentle sweeps of it over the length of Fjord’s cock and then moves lower, mouthing at where the base is swollen larger, and even further down. Curling his fingers into the sheets, Fjord doesn’t stand a chance of keeping quiet and doesn’t even care, not until there’s a gentle nip to his thigh that has him lifting his arm and his head to peer down at Caleb, only to find Caleb’s eyes fixed on his face.

“Okay up there?”

It takes a beat for him to figure out how to put words together, “Yep, peachy,” he pops the p’s on each word and huffs out something between a laugh and groan when it gets another bite to the thigh in response. 

Caleb ducks his head back down and any laughter that might’ve been there is gone when Caleb’s tongue drags over his hole, once, twice, three times, and then he loses track against the insistent press of Caleb’s tongue. He’s got to blink out of a daze when he realizes Caleb’s stopped and is talking to him, “Wha?”

“Lube, drawer,” Caleb sounds amused, but Fjord catches the twitch of his hips against the bed as he twists to fumble open the bedside drawer. One of the bottles of sports drink from earlier hits the floor with a dull thud and he doesn’t care as he fingers close around a bottle of lube and he passes it down into Caleb’s waiting hand.

He’s pretty sure Caleb is trying to kill him when he doesn’t break eye contact as he leans down and drags his tongue over his hole again and Fjord curls his toes into the sheets with a quiet, “Fuck.”

There’s some shuffling and he watches Caleb shift up the bed, settled between his spread thighs once more and he reaches out to cup one of Caleb’s hips, eyes on Caleb’s long fingers as he tips lube onto them and rubs it together, “Still good, Fjord?”

“Yeah, yeah, definitely good,” his voice breaks halfway through the last word as Caleb presses a finger into him, drawing out a shuddery groan. He falls back off his elbows again though he tries to grab at Caleb to pull him down as well. Caleb does follow him of his own volition though, pinning his arm between them as they trade a few sloppy kisses as Caleb curls his finger.

At some point, Caleb lifts back up, pressing one hand to one of Fjord’s thighs and working a second finger into him, spreading and curling them as he does so.

Fjord whines in the back of his throat as Caleb removes his fingers, even as Caleb presses back in with three and he rocks his hips, trying to get more, faster, harder, he’s not really sure what in the moment. Lips press to the inside of his thigh and Fjord hadn’t even realized he’d closed his eyes until he has to open them to peer at Caleb, who’s watching him quietly, still fucking his fingers in and out of him at a maddeningly slow pace.

“Cay, _please_.”

Caleb hums and presses another kiss to his thigh, scraping his teeth over the skin before he pulls back withdrawing his fingers. It feels like eons of time passes between Caleb removing his fingers, lubing his cock, and then shuffling in to brush the head over Fjord’s hole, but it’s probably only seconds and Fjord groans softly, pressing the heel of his foot against Caleb’s back trying to urge him on.

Time slips away a little as Caleb presses into him, one long, slow, so so slow, slide, until he’s pressed in to the hilt, his hips flush against Fjord’s ass, and they’re both panting, Caleb’s back a sharp curve as he presses his forehead to the middle of Fjord’s chest, “Scheiße.”

Fjord moans his agreement, sliding his fingers through Caleb’s hair and down his back, dragging gently with his claws. He tries to be patient, but he’s holding on by a thread and rocks his hips, trying to get Caleb to move or do something, anything.

“Eager,” Caleb muffles against his collarbone then doesn’t pull away so much as twist his hips in a dirty, little grind that has Fjord seeing stars.

And then, he starts fucking Fjord in earnest, pulling back and slamming forward like his life depends on it. 

Fjord is far from lying back and just taking it though, dragging his claws down Caleb’s chest, pinching his nipples to get those punched out groans out of him, rocking his hips up to meet his momentum. His own cock is making a mess of his stomach and he barely even notices, babbling a nonsense stream of words and syllables in Caleb’s direction, who’s clearly taking it as motivation to keep on.

“C’mon, barchen, touch yourself, want to see you,” Caleb’s thrusts slow into these long, hard presses that are making Fjord’s toes curl, just as much as they’re driving him crazy, but he doesn’t need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around his cock and jerking himself off.

It doesn’t take long after that before his orgasm crashes into him and he’s striping his chest and stomach in white, a groan tearing out of him as he stills and tenses.. Caleb fucks him through it, drawing it out, before he stills as well, hips flush as he groans and cums.

There’s several moments of heavy breathing as Fjord stretches his legs out past Caleb, curling his toes in the sheets, and absently petting his fingers through Caleb’s sweaty hair, before Caleb pulls out slowly and drops onto the bed next to him, boneless and still panting.

“Need another shower now,” Fjord says teasingly, once his higher brain functions have resumed and gets a gentle smack to the chest for it. He laughs softly and turns, brushing a kiss to Caleb’s temple, “Be right back.” He pushes himself to stand and winces a little as he pads to the bathroom to clean himself up some. 

When he returns to the room, Caleb’s surprisingly still awake, blinking at him sleepily from the bed and Fjord tosses the damp washcloth onto his chest before scooping up the sweatpants Caleb had been wearing earlier, dragging them onto himself. They’re almost too short in the legs but otherwise fit pretty well and he drops onto the bed, rumbling a quiet laugh when it jostles Caleb.

He drifts a little, he thinks, loses some time while Caleb cleans up and pulls on some clothes, because when he’s next aware, Caleb’s tucked to his chest and he’s in the hoodie that Fjord had been wearing when he’d shown up. “Is this gonna be a thing now?” He teases quietly, pushing his hand under the back of it to splay it wide against Caleb’s bare back.

“Is it a problem?”

Fjord huffs, “No, I like it,” he says, pressing his lips to the top of Caleb’s head.

There’s a considering hum from Caleb, who then nods, “Then, ja, it is going to be a thing.” And then a beat, before Caleb presses up to peer at him, “Wait, do you mean the clothes or us?”

Arching an eyebrow at Caleb, Fjord considers for maybe thirty seconds, probably less, before he replies, “Both?”

“Good,” Caleb nods again, seemingly satisfied as he resettles with his cheek on Fjord’s chest.

Time slips away again as they lay there, Fjord gently scraping his claws over Caleb’s scalp while Caleb talks quietly through the research he’s been working on, not expecting answers, just someone to listen, then Caleb’s phone buzzes from the sideboard table.

Fjord scoops it up and passes it over and doesn’t bother pretending like he’s not reading, until he realizes it’s the group chat and what the subject matter is, which prompts him to throw his arm over his eyes while Caleb’s laughs softly.

\-----

 **beauregard says:** about time you two got your shit together

 **jester says:** CONGRATS ON THE SEX!!!!!!! :cake: :balloon: :cake: :cake: :confetti:

 **nott says:** FJORD THIS IS NOT WHAT I MEANT WHEN I SAID TO TAKE CARE OF HIM

 **beauregard says:** you had to know nott i mean really

 **nott says:** shut up beau

 **jester says:** so was it good????????

 **caduceus says:** wait what

 **jester says:** FEEYORD AND CAYLEB SITTING IN A TREE

 **caduceus says:** why are they in a tree? are they okay? do you need help?

 **yasha says:** as long as you’re both happy, we’re all happy for you

 **nott says:** you better not have done it on the couch!!!!!!!!

 **caleb says:** it was very good. we don’t need help. we are both happy. and we did not do anything to the couch.

 **caleb says:** goodnight, i will talk to you all tomorrow.

 **caleb says:** maybe.

 **nott says:** goodnight, caleb! get some sleep!

 **nott says:** alright, jessie and beau! it’s your turn!

**Author's Note:**

> practice safe sex. come yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/red_hoodsy) or [tumblr](https://redhoods.tumblr.com).


End file.
